When the Evidence Lies
by Bellabrew
Summary: The Evidence tells Grissom that Sara has done the unthinkable, so he leaves the lab and the country without explanation. Can their love be salvaged when he learns what the Evidence really means?
1. Chapter 1

_Title: When the Evidence Lies_

_Rating: M for mature themes_

_Summary: The Evidence tells Grissom that Sara has done the unthinkable, so he leaves the lab and the country without explanation. Can their love be salvaged when he learns what the Evidence really means? _

_Spoilers: Established GSR post Season 6 Finale _

_Author's Notes: This story will deal with mature themes and may not be suitable for all audiences. I don't own them, just taking them out for a spin. The story wasn't beta'd so all mistakes are my own._

_**Nothing is easier than self-deceit. For what each man wishes, that he also believes to be true.-- Demosthenes**_

**Gil's POV**

**October 1st 9a.m.**

This was the fifth morning in four weeks that Sara had gotten sick. He didn't know how many other mornings she'd been sick, but she'd been wane, pale and tired for weeks. It was time to face the evidence he thought as he listened to her brush her teeth and rinse her mouth. Somewhere along the way the precautions hadn't been enough, the birth control had failed and Sara was pregnant with his child.

Grissom found that fact a surprisingly easy to face. It was a future he'd never envisioned until Sara came along, but now he was actually looking forward to becoming a father. Already he could see that this would be the greatest experiment of his life; watching Sara's slender body adjust to accommodate the new life, tracking growth developments and then witnessing the formation of this new unique individual.

Sara smiled a little at him as she came back to bed, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Sorry about that guess my stomach's still a little delicate."

He wanted to ask about the baby, but didn't know how. Communication still wasn't his strong suit. So when she curled up on her side of the bed, he spooned around her and rested his palm against her still flat stomach. Her breathing changed subtly and he knew she was sound asleep, which gave him time to look at the rest of the evidence and figure out how to talk to her about it.

Maybe Sara was in denial about her condition? She had to know the dangers a fetus faced with the chemicals they used. Maybe she'd made a decision without him to terminate it? What if he asked her and she lied about it? The questions plagued him, while the thoughts and emotions grew more disturbing as they kept building on old fears and insecurities. Until it felt like the walls were closing in on him and he had to get out of there.

Slipping out of the paisley bedding he tucked his side down and gently kissed her forehead. He needed to figure out how to talk to Sara about the baby, but couldn't do it here. The dark voice in his head that taunted how she was just like Melinda, that history was repeating itself.

Grissom found himself silently praying as he dressed that the voice was wrong. Thinking about the beautiful literature professor who had left scars on his heart and psyche that still hadn't fully healed even decades later, required several stiff drinks. If the past truly did repeat itself with Sara, he wasn't sure he'd ever recover.

**October 1st 6p.m.**

His cell phone rang as he finished getting dressed after his shower. "Grissom."

"Hey it's Sara. I'm not feeling well enough to be able to make it in tonight."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine." She didn't sound fine, she sounded like she'd been crying.

"Honey, you want me to come over? Bring you some veggie soup or something?"

In the silence he could make out the background noise, a cheery female voice. "Sara? Dr. Baumgartner wanted me to…"

"Hold on a sec Griss." Sara's voice was muffled as she covered the phone with her hand.

When the other woman's voice became clearer, he realized Sara's hand must have moved slightly. "Make sure you get plenty of rest, fluids, take Tylenol if there's any pain or cramping from the procedure."

"Thank you." Sara's voice told the other woman. "Griss?" Her voice was even clearer now. "I'm just gonna stay in bed. I should feel better tomorrow after a little rest."

"Right. Okay."

"Be safe tonight, okay?"

"Yeah. Feel better." He ended the call gratefully and sank onto his bed devastated.

Dr. Adrienne Baumgartner was Catherine's physician. He remembered the pretty ash blonde from when she delivered Lindsay. His mind tried to grasp the idea that Sara had a procedure by an OB/GYN. Logically he knew it was her choice to terminate the pregnancy, but his heart was crying out in anguish she hadn't even talked to him before she'd killed their baby. When the wet drop rolled down his nose and landed on his hand, he realized he was crying; grieving for the loss of life and dreams of family.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the cell phone he didn't remember dropping and called Catherine. In a brisk tone he let her know he wouldn't be in tonight and Sara had called in ill. He didn't give Catherine time to question him further. Just said he had a migraine and that his phones would be off.

A flash of neon pink caught his attention and he noticed Sara's pajama top was caught on the edge of the laundry hamper. It was from the set he'd bought for her birthday a few weeks ago. They'd caught his eye because the image on the front was a neon yellow and green sun medallion that was similar to her tattoo. The memory was adumbrated by his grief which was quickly replaced by an uncontrollable rage and a need to strike out. Needing a safe outlet he picked up the soft cotton shirt and began ripping it apart, until it was as ruined as their relationship.

When he sat down to write Sara a letter he was surprised to see a letter of resignation being neatly typed across the laptop screen. Years ago he'd told Warrick that when he left there'd be no cake in the break room. For a while, he'd thought that had changed because being with Sara was opening him up. Except now as he printed out the letter he wondered if he'd been fooling himself.

Once the letter was signed and the envelope sealed, he was amazed at the speed his brain formulated the next step of the plan. He called Jason White at UNLV who agreed to take care of Gil's insects and spiders. That was quickly followed by a call to Roger Casselman who'd asked Gil to go on a Rainforest expedition in his place. He'd initially turned it down, not wanting to be away from Sara, but now it was the perfect escape if the spot hadn't been filled.

By 7 a.m. all the arrangements had been made, but he waited until noon to drive to the Sheriff's office knowing that most of the Graveyard staff would be gone by then. There would be the usually ploys by the Sheriff to try and keep a valued employee, since forensic entomologists were rare, but Gil Grissom was decided that no one could stop him from leaving Las Vegas.

**Sara's POV**

**October 1st 11p.m.**

"What did you do?" Catherine demanded as soon as Sara walked in the door.

Still not feeling well, Sara blinked at the older CSI while trying to remember anything she might have done to piss off Catherine. "Huh?" She finally answered when nothing came to mind.

"Gil's gone." Catherine's heels tapped sharply against the tile floor as she paced the break room. The combination of noise and movement were making Sara's headache worse.

Staggering to the unoccupied sofa, she ignored the rest of the team's obvious curiosity. "What do you mean? Everything was fine the last time I saw him."

"Well something must have happened for him to just suddenly turn in his resignation letter to the Sheriff this morning."

"He resigned?" Sara repeatedly quietly.

"No." Catherine sighed softly. "The Sheriff convinced him to submit a 6-month Leave of Absence instead, giving Gil the option to return at that time or quit."

"I don't think he's coming back." Warrick's voice was quiet in the sudden silence. "His bugs and stuff aren't in his office. Plus his home and cell phones are forwarded to an answering service that said he'd be out of the country for the rest of the year."

"I never thought he'd really leave without saying goodbye." Nick's quiet voicing of disbelief was the last straw, sending Sara racing out the door.

Since the dark haired, dark eyed CSIs were the acknowledged emotional ones of the group, seeing Sara sprint the room crying was understandable each had seen evidence of a special vibe over the years, maybe even to be expected. Seeing her with one hand pressed against her mouth, with a distinctly ill look was not.

Resting her head against the stall wall, Sara heard Catherine enter the rest room before she saw her, so her voice wasn't a shock. "Sara are you pregnant?"

"No Catherine I'm absolutely not pregnant." Sara's laugh came out sounding more like a sob. The quiet tears she'd been crying as she entered the stall were no longer enough, the physical and emotional pain were too much. She was suffocating under the full impact of Gil's leaving without saying goodbye, the impossibility of Catherine's question and results of yesterday's appointment with the Doctor overwhelmed her.

Kneeling behind the sobbing brunette, Catherine pulled her close wrapping an arm around the shaking shoulders and swayed trying to offer her some measure of comfort. In all the years she'd known Sara she'd never thought she'd see an outburst like this. The team had seen Sara mad, sad, depressed and resigned, but this reaction was like a deep and profound grief. It reminded Catherine of her own grief when Eddie died.

Catherine smoothed Sara's hair back and whispered over and over. "Shush Sweetie it will be okay." Sara didn't say anything, but it took a long time for to quiet down. Looking into sorrow filled brown eyes, Catherine privately wondered if it would ever be alright again.

**Catherine's POV**

**October 2nd 12:45 a.m.**

Sitting behind Grissom's desk the Interim Nightshift Supervisor wanted nothing more than to find her friend and beat him senseless. In the years they'd known each other Catherine had never observed him be so rash and irresponsible. Studying the piles on his desk she didn't think this was a well thought out decision, but the missing bug tanks and experiments suggested it wasn't exactly a snap one either.

Leaning back she closed her eyes, wondering what the hell was going on with him. Jim had teased Gil during his fling with Lady Heather to get a sport's car, but Catherine thought maybe this was more a Grissom sort of mid-life crisis. The office phone rang disturbing her reverie.

"Willows."

"Hey Boss Lady."

"Where the HELL are you Gil?"

"On a plane to the middle of the Rainforest." He hadn't called to talk about himself. "How's the team?"

"You want the truth?" She asked bitterly wondering if she should tell him. The team was mad about his sudden departure, but was also worried about Sara she wasn't taking the news well.

It seemed like she'd held Sara for hours in the bathroom. The girl had cried so hard, she'd thrown up again and when the tears had finally stopped flowing; it was hard not to notice the change. Sara had lost her sparkle, her smile and Catherine thought that Sara had never seemed so lost or broken as she did now. That had been enough to scare Catherine into sending Greg to the Morgue to ask Robbins to come check her out.

Al had seemed shocked and worried when he'd come out after speaking to Sara privately in the break room. With no concern for how short staffed the Lab already was the Coroner ordered Nick to take her home, stay there until he was relieved and sent them off after whispering strict instructions to the Texan. Catherine hadn't caught what they'd said, but their body language had her curious and worried, it was almost like the men were afraid to leave Sara alone.

"Bad?"

"You left without a word or any warning Gil. How could that be good?"

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft and the exhaustion obvious.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"The shift before last."

"Gil! You made this kind of decision when you were exhausted."

"Cath, it was the right one."

"Keep telling yourself that Gil, because I hope all the pain you're causing is worth it." Not surprisingly he didn't respond.

"I'll be too deep in the jungle for anyone to reach me by phone or e-mail. I'll be back in six months Cath. Letters will be packed in with the supplies, it won't be weekly or anything, but I left the address on my desk just in case."

"Gil." The call ended before she could say more and she wondered if he'd done it on purpose. There would be no changing his mind she realized. Opening up her e-mail she sent a group text page to the team, which she'd follow up with an e-mail and the address.

**Nick's POV**

**October 2nd 12:45 a.m.**

After checking the label, making sure it matched the name Doc had given him, he gave Sara the single tablet and a glass of water. She was like a zombie unable to think for herself until he ordered her to swallow the pill with the water. When she came out of her bedroom wearing the strangest looking outfit he was worried.

She was wearing a very large man's blue tropical print shirt over the brightest and outlandish looking pajamas he'd ever seen. The cotton pants were neon green covered with neon pink spots and neon yellow trim along the bottom. While the tank top she wore underneath was canary yellow with 'Berkeley' emblazoned in bright blue across her chest. On her feet were very fuzzy fuchsia and dark amethyst socks.

One look at the combination convinced him to stay much closer to her after that and give her specific directions. It was strange helping her get through the simple ritual of getting ready for bed. Catherine and Sara were the strongest, most independent women he knew outside his family. So it was unnerving to see them both so shaken, but it was Sara softly crying herself to sleep that left him feeling helpless because there was nothing he could do to comfort his friend.

The buzzing of an incoming page was really disconcerting in the sudden silence after Sara had fallen asleep. She hadn't told anyone what was wrong, but Doc Robbins, who bound by privilege, couldn't say anything either. Instead he whispered a stern warning to keep a very close eye on her and give her the prescription sleep aid.

"Grissom called, he'll be in the Rainforest and stay for the next 6 months studying bugs. Not reachable by phone or email, but left an address we can write him at." Reading the page from Catherine he wondered if this was good news or not.

**Grissom's POV**

**October 2nd 1:00 a.m.**

The line had died, but he held onto the phone for another minute, it was his last connection to Vegas, his friends, co-workers and Sara. Shaking his head he drove the image of her from his mind. That was the life he was leaving behind. History had repeated itself; just as he had last time Gil mailed a final letter from the airport as he was leaving the country. Like last time he was determined to be over her and the pain by the time he returned.

**Author's Notes:**

All reviews appreciated, but please don't flame. This story will be GSR but rather angsty at first so please bear with me.

The Pajama top Grissom destroys was inspired by the sunburst pajama set on pajama a big thank you to Mel Olle who was kind enough to rescue me from writer's block by suggesting Sara's pajama bottoms. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

_Author's Notes: This story will deal with mature themes and may not be suitable for all audiences. I don't own them, just taking them out for a spin. _

_This story has been vastly improved by my beta who does so much more than catch my mistakes. So this chapter is dedicated to Daphne who's been patient, supportive and honest._

**Every time history repeats itself, the price goes up. -- John A. Appleman**

**Grissom's POV**

**October 2nd 1:00 a.m.**

Sitting back, he tried to relax against the seat's headrest, but more than 40 hours without sleep was starting to take its toll. Now wasn't the time to sleep, another fifteen minutes and they'd be landing at LAX. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. It probably wasn't safe for him to drive in this condition, so he decided to hold off on renting a car. By taking a taxi he could be at his mother's cottage in less than thirty minutes.

He would need some sort of transportation while he stayed in L.A. There was no way of knowing how long the Visa application process would take and he didn't want to burden to his mother. He'd rent something in the morning to use while he waited for his application to be approved. Waiting, he sighed that was something he should be good at by now. He waited for lots of things: bugs to mature, on evidence to be processed and for suspects to slip in interrogation. He'd spent years of his life just waiting for the right time to be with Sara.

Prior to their last phone call he'd been thinking in terms of forever. He'd even taken a string, measuring her ring finger while she slept so he could take it and his grandmother's ring to a jeweler to be re-sized. He'd never gotten around to asking though; Sara's words from the murdered mother of the groom case would come back to him at odd times. '_I'm not anti-wedding. I'm just anti-stupid -- you know, people who do things for the sake of tradition with no clue as to why.'_ He hadn't asked because he was still trying to figure out how to do it. Sara didn't want archaic traditions done for tradition sake. This left him trying to figure out what she would want. Not that any of that mattered now.

The point of this trip, he chided himself, was to not think about Sara every few minutes. Only it was proving more difficult than he had anticipated; everything made him think of her. Of Sara. His fists clenched and his gut roiled, the resentment he'd felt after her call yesterday was still so close to the surface. Only it wasn't the only emotion he was feeling it was also warring with a profound sense of betrayal and grief. He was afraid to give into the feelings even now that he was safely away from Vegas.

It was that fear which was what had prompted his sudden decision to leave Las Vegas and avoid anything that reminded him of her. He was still haunted by the memory of Vincent Luhrie who had spent long hours in the house where he murdered the woman he loved while he disassembled the body of her new lover. In his worst nightmares Gil could see Sara's body with the same slit throat, laying in a pool of her blood, then he'd look down to see the bloody scalpel wielding hand was his own. His words from the interrogation ringing in his ears "and now you have nothing."

He couldn't bear to see or talk to Sara, so he'd written her a letter. It was suppose to be a 'Dear John' letter to cut the ties and to end their relationship. He tried to say goodbye, but wondered if he had or even if he could after loving her for so long.

Slipping his glasses back on he looked out the window hoping the view would distract him, but the city lights on the land below sparkled like sequins on a black dress. A dress that was still hanging in the back of Sara's closet so many years after she'd first worn it for their last minute date a decade ago. She'd borrowed the vintage black sequined dress from her elderly neighbor, Nikki, who'd worn it as a Hollywood starlet in the thirties. That had been the first time he'd admired Sara more for her beauty than her mind. She'd been long, sleek, glamorous and stunningly beautiful both in and out of the dress.

A sigh escaped his lips as he thought of the night they'd crossed the line from friends into something else, and never found their way back or forward. He'd been ready to break the impasse immediately, but waited for a sign from Sara. He thought he'd finally gotten it when she'd stepped out of their intimate embrace to stand in front of her closet with her hands on her hips, declaring he would keep some clothes at her place.

The night before he'd nearly been late for shift because he'd had to stop at his house for fresh a change of clothes. Normally he'd just use his spare ones, but he'd forgotten to put it in the car. They'd been spending almost their spare time together, but they hadn't discussed their relationship or its future.

They were lovers and co-workers, but neither implied where this was going or the commitment involved. So he was stunned as he watched her empty a dresser drawer, part of the closet and the nightstand on his side. As Sara made room for him in her bedroom, he recognized he was ready to do the same in both his home and future.

Gil tried to ignore how just the memory of that morning was affecting him. The emotions could be shoved to the back of his mind, but the physical effects were harder to dismiss. Shifting in his seat he tried focusing on bugs, decomps and baseball to ignore his body's response. Sara had looked sexier than any lingerie model wearing a silky pink bra, her breasts thrust out at him, and a seductive smile on her lips. No words were necessary as he crossed the room to kiss her. She'd matched his passion until they were both left speechless as the connection between them strengthened.

From that moment Sara had touched him, she was under his skin and prompting decisions she wasn't aware of. She knew he'd called her to Vegas, but she didn't know he'd chosen his townhouse because it reminded him of her loft in San Francisco, high enough up over the city to give them a fantastic view from every window.

During his search for a new dwelling his realtor, Mrs. Greyer, kept asking if he could visualize himself in the space. Standing in the master bedroom he'd smirked, certain his musings would have shocked the older woman; his mental picture of Sara in this bedroom fueled by the memory of how she had looked on that last morning in San Francisco. Lying on her stomach, the white sheet lying in soft folds hanging over the spot where her hips flared from her tiny waist.

He'd stayed awake that night watching as the darkness slowly receded and the rising sun's light filtered through the window giving her skin a soft glow. She'd reminded him of Titian's Venus of Urbino. Her skin had been softer than the sheets and he remembered how his fingertips had glided over the small of her drawing circles and shapes. At one point he'd even drawn his name into her skin as if laying claim to her for all time.

The morning after he'd returned to Vegas without her, he'd order that print and began a search for a bigger place to live. Catherine had teased once that his townhouse was hermitically sealed and he'd had no come back for her then. It was only a couple of months ago when he laid on the loveseat his head resting on the pillow she'd bought for it while Sara put her things away in the empty closet and drawers in the bedroom. As he listened to her humming, he stumbled across the truth. He'd left his home a blank canvas waiting for the day when she joined him. So that the woman who lived in a world of color could blend his monochromatic world with hers until their home glowed with the same mysterious inner light as the Titian.

The truth was that as he looked back he could see how he'd subconsciously chosen furniture and art pieces for how they would fit with Sara's. A loveseat that coordinated with her favorite chair, dining room chairs she favored or decorating his master suite for two. With hindsight, he could see how everything from carpet to the bed and its linens had been chosen with Sara in mind. She'd even loved the Titian print hanging on the wall opposite his bed.

He shifted his gaze from the window back to the magazine in his lap. Once again there would be no wedding, no happily ever-after. The painful memories of Melinda merged with those of Sara. History had repeated itself; except this time the woman he loved was still alive. The question was did he want the chance of reconciliation he'd never had with Lindy. He took a deep breath, pushing all thoughts from his mind as the plane made the final approach to LAX.

**October 2nd 1:30 a.m.**

Leaning against the counter Grissom waited for his rental car to be pulled around. His exhaled breath was a deep rumbling sigh that caught the attention of the middle-aged woman sitting a few feet away. She smiled a little before returning back to her glossy magazine. She reminded him of Catherine with her perfectly dyed blonde hair and make-up. Closing his eyes he wondered if he should feel guilty for misleading Catherine and the others. None of them had done this kind of academic fieldwork or taken trips abroad that he was aware of so they probably wouldn't question what he'd told them. Sara was the one who would know that he couldn't have pulled this thing together as quickly as he'd implied. The question was what would she do about it?

He'd changed his mind about not renting a car and going straight to his mother's house because of Melinda. Practice had taught him to distance himself from feelings and memories of her, but that hadn't been working recently. Maybe because for the first time in thirty years he was in love and considering marriage.

The introspection was put on hold as he took the keys for the red mustang convertible. It wasn't the kind of car he usually rented, but it was a token nod to his first car. His co-workers would probably be shocked to discover that Gil Grissom's first car had been a black 1965 convertible Mustang. Even though it was October the L.A. night air was warmer than Las Vegas. Once the top was down, he drove down streets that had once been as familiar as the back of his hand. Without much thought he drove to the one place where he could to think.

Melinda had introduced him to this beach; they'd walked the three-mile stretch so often both together and separately that it became 'their' spot. Walking down the beach, his shoes in hand, his toes crunched in the sand and he allowed himself to remember his first love. She'd had sat next to him in his Introduction to Psychology class so she'd been the first person he met his first day in college.

She'd turned to him a bright smile and held out her hand. "Hi. Melinda Donovan, but everyone calls me Lindy. Well not everyone here, because I just moved here from Chicago, but everyone there did. So you can. You're the first person I've met, because my roommate still hasn't shown up. Which is good I guess because I have a room to myself. Have you heard much about this Professor?"

When she'd finally paused for breath he'd shaken her hand. "Gil Grissom." He hadn't been able to say much more because she'd started talking a mile a minute again until the Professor had stood at the podium and began his lecture. Lindy Donovan from the Windy City had blown into his life and he was never the same again.

Gil's thoughts tumbled over themselves until he finally stopped walking and sat on the beach to watch the waves crash against the sand. As he focused on the sounds of the Pacific, he could clear his mind. Watching the sun creep up on the horizon he let go of his past and future, so he could just be in the present.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: This story contains references to abortion. If this subject matter makes you uncomfortable, please do not read it. The opinions expressed within this story are not necessarily my own, so do not send me emails expressing your opinions. I do, however, appreciate reviews with questions, comments, and suggestions."

_**Every time history repeats itself, the price goes up. - John A. Appleman**_

* * *

December 26th 1977 6:00a.m.

The day after Christmas dawned crisp and clear; Gil was watching the sun rising in the horizon from the kitchen window in his mother's cottage while waiting for his black coffee to cool enough for him to take a first sip. It would be the first cup of many to get him through the shift and the double that would most likely follow. School was out so he'd be spending the next few weeks much like the last, covering vacations and illnesses.

He was working an obscene number of hours, with only short breaks for sleeping and eating between them, all for the large paycheck before the next term started. He hadn't told anyone what he was saving up for, but his supervisor had just looked over his reading glasses and said mildly, "She must be something special to work these kinds of hours."

Looking at the sky that was the same shade of grey as her eyes he smiled. Lindy was something special alright; she was the one. After three years, he was ready to take the next step and had already begun the preparations. His grandmother's ring had recently returned from being cleaned at the jeweler's and once his next paycheck was deposited there would be enough for a down payment on a small house. He'd already made arrangements so he could work while finishing school and all that remained was for him to ask her.

He ignored the familiar anxiety when he thought about his proposal plans. A nice dinner, followed by hours of dancing and then just before midnight he'd whisper "Marry me?" in her ear. He could hear her saying yes and they'd still be kissing as the confetti and balloons fell down around them marking the transition from one year to the next.

Picking up the coffee cup he sipped the dark brew and began preparing himself for another long day at the Coroner's office. He could bear the terrible things he saw everyday, because of Lindy and their future. Smiling he could hear her recent reply in their quotes game ""The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. He'd won a kiss when he correctly attributed the quote to Eleanor Roosevelt."

* * *

December 26th 1977 7:00a.m.

"Hey Carver." Gil called out to the dark skinned Coroner as he entered the break room to grab a cup of coffee. For the older man to still be in the building he'd either gotten in really early for his afternoon shift or never left.

"Gil."

"What are you still doing here?"

"Had to pull a double. Some religious nut was inspired by the Hillside Strangler; so I had to stay for three strangled college girls while nightshift worked a six car pile up."

"Religious nut? That's an odd comment from a man who's a Deacon in his church?"

The black man shrugged. "Well I don't know what else to call it when someone writes 'I broke the sixth commandment' across his victim's foreheads."

"Thou shall not kill." Gil spoke quietly.

"The case is going to be high profile and has got the D.A. worried; he doesn't want a repeat of the Hillside Strangler."

Gil nodded in understanding, his school schedule kept him from working on the recent case, but he'd seen how deeply the case affected his co-workers and the residents of Los Angles.

"The odd thing was all three had recently had abortions so it probably referred to that. Well I'm heading home. Have a good shift Gil. "

"See ya Carver." Gil called over his shoulder as he left the room.

Walking down the hallway Gil was surprised to see a group of people already in the family waiting area. Normally families didn't arrive to make identifications until mid-morning so they were probably related to one of the college girls. He tried to give the family some privacy by averting his eyes so a stranger didn't watch as they grappled with their overwhelming grief.

As he drew closer, he was startled by the familiarity of their silhouettes. His boss was standing next to Lindy's Dad who was trying to comfort the weeping woman in the chair. He tried to pretend it was his girlfriend sitting there, but each step brought him closer to the truth. It became harder to breathe as his brain railed against the conclusion it was trying to draw.

"Gil?" The woman's voice called out softly as he approached. Her voice was a little deeper than Lindy's, but so similar that he looked up hoping his senses were deceiving him. The red rimmed blue eyes and face stained with tears confirm it wasn't Lindy. "I'm so sorry."

Stumbling a little he steadied himself against the wall. It was too much, too big; there was an unfamiliar throbbing in his head and the pain was overwhelming as he sank to the floor. Looking down he stared at the white tiled floor, he noticed a small spider cross the tile to the wall.

"I'm sorry son." Lindy's Dad gave his shoulder a squeeze, but Gil couldn't bear to look up and see Lindy's grey eyes staring back at him, even as the older man choked out the dreaded words. "Melinda's gone."

"There must be a mistake, you're wrong."

"I wish it was, but they've just made a positive i.d." His supervisor's voice was soft and understanding. "Melinda was one of the women brought in last night."

* * *

October 2nd 6:00 a.m.

Dusting sand off his pants Grissom shook off the memories of the past to return to the present he stood and stared at the ocean. The sun was rising and it was time to leave. Following his footprints in the sand back to his car he thought about secrets and lies.

Sometimes just before entering the interrogation room he would remember watching Detective Owens' question Lisa Eden, the mentally disturbed woman responsible for killing Lindy and two other young women. He'd remember the gentle probing questions that revealed the terrible truth; she believed that God would give her a baby if she exacted 'justice' on those women.

Mrs. Eden had kept secrets from her husband not telling him about her rape, her illegal abortion, the infection it caused or how it prevented her from conceiving. He lied about the reasons for the divorce rather than admitting he'd fallen in love with someone else. Maybe the truth might have prevented her from slipping into madness and murder.

Gil sighed if only Lindy had shared her secret with him, they could have discussed it and things could have turned out so differently. She wouldn't have been alone when she left the clinic so she'd have lived. Maybe they'd have eloped, bought a little house and had the baby. That child would have been Greg's age now and he guessed it would have been as brilliant as his youngest CSI. Either way things would have been different.

He'd spent years avoiding these thoughts because they accomplished nothing. If that one thing in the past had been changed he knew that his life would have been very different. He'd have chosen alternate paths and that would've changed so many things; criminals not caught, students not taught, friends he wouldn't have made. The past was past and dwelling on the what-ifs only brought heartache and he had enough of it in his present.

Stopping to pick up a rock to throw into the ocean he thought of Sara's secrets and lies, the rage was gone now. He balanced the stone in his palm; it was cool, smooth and reminded him of Sara. She'd been broken, battered and tumbled through her childhood by forces out of her control. It was only recently that the last of her rough edges seemed to smooth out as if she had finally come to rest on terra firma, but like the stone, the surface revealed little of her chaotic origins.

He hadn't pressed her to share more than she'd already revealed, choosing to respect her privacy and allow Sara to keep her secrets until she felt safe enough to share on her own. He wondered now if that was a mistake. Was she still worried that violence was genetic? Shoving the stone into his pocket he continued his trek back to his car. Until now, he'd thought their relationship couldn't be harmed by what had been left unsaid, but now he knew better.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: As promised to my reviewers here is part two of the update I told you about. I hope you will bear with Grissom he's dealing with emotional baggage he's ignored for decades. We'll hear from Sara in the next chapter. Also italics are used to represent conversations in American Sign Language.

"**A mother loves her children even when they least deserve to be loved." Kate Samperi**

October 2nd 6:30 a.m.

Walking up to his mother's cottage he spotted the flowers she and Sara had planted on the last visit were blooming. The front of the house was dark except for the porch light, but he knew that didn't mean anything. Where he was a night owl, Mom was an early bird. Pushing the doorbell he watched as the interior lights flashed on and off alerting her to the bell.

A few minutes passed, before the wooden front door opened. Through the glass of the screen door he could see his mother. She looked like she always did; dressed casually in faded blue jeans and a tailored white peasant blouse. Her shoulder length hair neither quite the champagne blonde of her youth nor completely platinum. She looked much younger than seventy-five. He knew he hadn't woken her up, but since she was still barefoot he guessed she hadn't been for her morning walk yet.

Rosemary Grissom smiled at the sight of her only child standing on her front porch. _"I wasn't expecting you and Sara until Thanksgiving." _

_"I know."_ Both women had been so excited about the upcoming holiday trips. Thanksgiving with his mother and then Christmas in Chicago where he'd hoped to introduce Sara to the rest of the family as his fiancée.

Opening the glass door she looked around for Sara, her smile faded and was replaced with concern when she didn't see her. _"Where is Sara?" _

He sighed, not looking forward to disappointing his mother, she'd been so happy to meet Sara. His mother would have tried to like any woman he wanted to marry. She didn't have to 'try' to like Sara; they had bonded over a painting, been inseparable for the rest of the visit and chatted online nearly every day. Last week he'd even teased that Sara was closer to her than her own son.

"_She's not coming."_

As she studied her son, Rosemary saw that something was very wrong. She stared deep into his blood shot blue eyes, past the fatigue and saw something darker, to the source of the defeated slump to Gil's shoulders. It broke her heart to see him hurting like this and she wished that a kiss could make it all better like when he was little. It wouldn't so all she could do was get him to tell her about it and help him find a solution.

_"Gil what's wrong?" _

_"I needed to get out of Vegas."_

"_You're a little old to be running away from home." _She teased gently, when he shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders, she saw the little boy he'd been. Gil had acted the same way as a child he didn't have a reply and whatever was making him unhappy was serious. Stepping back she silently invited him in with the tilt of her head before turning to open her fridge to scan its contents.

"_You want bacon or sausage?"_

"_Neither."_

"_Sara said you were taking better care of yourself; eating less meat and getting more sleep." _She signed before pulling out a couple of eggs.

Sitting at the dining table, hands wrapped around a mug of black coffee he watched as she deftly moved around the kitchen scrambling eggs on the stove then popping bread into the toaster. Watching his mother cooking breakfast in her bright yellow kitchen he suddenly missed Sara desperately.

Setting twin plates of toast and eggs on the table, Rosemary sat down across from him. Her hands were still for a minute and then flashed as she signed. _"What happened?"_

"_I don't want to talk about Sara."_

"_Why not?" _She asked, taking a sip of her coffee giving him time to formulate his answer.

"_She doesn't know I'm here. I don't want you to tell her I am."_

"_How is she? I haven't talked to her in a couple days."_ Rosemary picked up her fork to taking a bite of her eggs.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before he set down his fork and began explaining at his own pace. _"Yesterday she went to the Doctor." _He swallowed a bit of coffee to help with the painful lump in his throat, speaking the words instead of signing them. "I think she had an abortion."

Rosemary set her plate aside, moving around the table to take his face in her hands so he could read her lips. "Ridiculous. Sara would never do that."

He shook his head and pulled away. _"I heard her Mom."_

"_Maybe what you heard isn't what you think." _He shook his head tiredly, seeing he wasn't in any frame of mind to be reasonable, she dropped the subject for now._ "Gil when did you sleep last?"_

"_Two or three days ago."_

"_You need to sleep. We'll talk more after you've rested."_

"_I don't want to talk about it yet."_

"_Too bad. Finish your breakfast and then get some sleep."_

* * *

The alarm on his watch went off. It was 7 a.m. and shift was over. Turning off the music he lay on his back staring at the guest room ceiling. Like the room, the watch was just another reminder of Sara. She'd given it to him the third time he'd missed an after shift date and not called. In his experience such an oversight turned into a huge fight. Terri Miller hadn't been the first woman upset when work interfered with a date, but at least she d just walked away instead of causing a scene like some of the others had. Sara hadn't gotten angry or walked away; she'd just handed him the watch, kissed his check and whispered in his ear. "The alarm goes off when shift ends. Promise you'll try to call if you'll be late so I won't worry." 

The problem was solved that easily. They didn't have any of the issues that had plagued past relationships because of the shared vocation and interests. That didn't mean there hadn't been issues, but as he thought back on their relationship he realized that Sara had done all the work, tackling all the issues and using logic to find a practical solution. Up until two days ago everything had been practically perfect because Sara had made it that way.

He was tempted to call her and keep his promise, but that defeated the purpose of leaving. His heart hurt, his mind was numb, his body exhausted and the guest bedroom bed was definitely not as comfortable as he remembered from that last visit. It was smaller and firmer than what he was used to in Vegas, but that wasn't really the problem. If he was honest, he missed the soft, lithe form he was used to cuddling with. He even missed how she'd run her ice cold feet over his calves.

It wasn't until she wasn't there that he began to be aware how she made everything better. Closing his eyes he forced himself to relax using a technique she'd taught him. As he released the breath he hoped his mother was right and that everything would be clearer after he'd slept.


	5. Chapter 5

"**Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." Martin Luther King, JR.**

October 2nd 7:30 a.m. Las Vegas

Rolling over to his side of the bed, Sara opened her eyes slowly silently hoping the last 36 hours were just part of some terrible nightmare. That she'd wake up, Gil would be in the shower and everything would be fine. She wished that when she looked around her bedroom she'd see remnants of Gil; the way he left his shoes next to the bed, his pants and jacket draped over the chair in the corner or his glasses on the nightstand. None of it was there though, but then it hadn't been the last time she woken up either.

Sara felt the queasiness, which had plagued her since that last phone call from Dr. Baumgartner's office, return. Of course she hadn't told Gil about all the appointments and tests because she hadn't wanted to worry him over nothing. Only it wasn't exactly nothing anymore. She'd planned on telling him, meant to ask him to come to her appointment, but he'd left while she was sleeping. Yesterday she'd expected him to call or come over to ask why she'd gone to the doctor's, but he hadn't. This wasn't something she could tell him over the phone, so she'd put off calling him figuring they could talk at the Lab since he needed to know both as her Supervisor and someone she loved. Only Grissom hadn't been there to tell.

Instead another bombshell rocked her world when Catherine said he'd suddenly decided to take a leave of absence. After the doctor's news it had been too much. She wasn't sure how to feel or what to believe about either revelation. Except she thought things had been fine when she went to sleep the other morning and now it seemed they hadn't been.

Last night she'd stared at the ceiling and racked her brain looking for any hint to explain why he'd left without discussion. In her mind there'd been no breakup, no fight and no goodbye. She was left to wonder why and ask herself what she should do about it. The first idea that popped into her head was to stay bed and pretend yesterday never happened.

That wouldn't be productive for either issue so instead she decided to follow Gracie, her Counselor's advice and focus on something she could control. Taking a deep breath in as she slowly counted to five, repeating the count as she held the breath in and then slowly released it. A few minutes of the relaxation technique and she felt better able to think about how to face the day.

"One thing at a time Sidle." She reminded herself, saying it out loud for the first time. The phrase had become a mantra of sorts in recent weeks, a gentle reminder not to borrow trouble, but to focus on the moment or the task at hand. Hearing it outside of her head forced her to acknowledge that the trouble was very real now. She still didn't know the extent of it, but had to acknowledge that her life was changing and that it was time to accept the new reality. Gone were the days of 5 year plans and triple shifts; she'd just have to get used to living carpe diem.

In her mind she could hear Gracie reminding her that 'Getting out of bed was a good first step.' Flipping the comforter back she sat up and swung her legs so her feet were firmly planted on the floor. The bright flash of color caught her eye, looking down at her feet she followed the bright colors up her legs to her lap and finally groaning at the clothing combination.

Unconsciously, she'd thrown on every clean item of clothing she had that reminded her of Gil as if the physical mementos would magically bring him back to her. He'd given her the socks and pajamas a couple weeks ago for her birthday. She'd worn the Berkeley tank top when he asked her to stay in Vegas and the cotton button up shirt was one of his favorites. Shrugging off the shirt and the thoughts she decided Sara would think about Gil later for now she needed to get up and start her day.

"So the first order of business is to finish getting out of bed. Then take a quick shower, get dressed and eat something." She announced to the empty room, pushing herself off the bed feeling better now that she had a plan to put into action.

Stepping under the hot spray Sara managed to push everything aside by focusing on the mundane tasks of showering and washing her hair. Once she stepped out though, the blue Hawaiian shirt lying on the bed reminded her of Gil. It would take time to sort through all the emotions she was feeling, but she would not wanting to a repeat of some of her stupidest, most regrettable mistakes. Things like having sex with Ken Fuller and Hank Pettigrew, or deciding to drive after having that second beer. Choices made when she was angry, hurt or confused. Sara refused to let them control her life like that again.

That didn't mean she wasn't planning on hunting Gilbert Grissom down and demanding he explain himself. It was just…the thought was lost when from her open bedroom door she could hear her front door open and close. Sara was alarmed until she clearly made out Greg and Catherine's voices which meant that the remaining low hum of voices she couldn't identify probably belonged to the rest of the team. She should have felt irritated by them coming over uninvited, but all she felt was relief that she'd gotten dressed after her shower instead of walking out in a robe like she normally did.

Slipping out of the bedroom she leaned against the wall in the hallway to watch her co-workers from the shadows. For nearly all of them this was the first time in her home. One hazard of their job was an unconscious habit to analyze the room you were in and then build a profile about who lived there. They weren't being invasive or anything, but they'd most likely learn more about her in the next five minutes than they had in the last six years.

"I peeked in on her a couple times during the night, for someone with bad insomnia she sure seemed to be sleeping soundly."

"Here we brought you coffee." Nick accepted a cup of hot coffee from Warrick as he passed with a nod of his head.

"Have you seen her yet?" Greg asked impatiently setting Sara's tea down on the counter.

"No I heard the shower, but haven't seen her yet."

"Somehow this isn't quite what I expected." Catherine announced as she set her purse on the kitchen counter.

"Figured it be more like Grissom's?" Jim teased looking around at the vibrant walls and eclectic decorations.

"Yeah I think I did. I swear there's more color in this one room than in all of Gil's townhouse." She noted absently as settled into the couch next to Jim Brass.

"Well she has framed bugs too." He pointed to the couple on her desk resting against the wall. The group laughed and Sara was tempted to point out the one was actually a tarantula, but if they asked could she deny they'd been a gift from Gil years ago.

"Hey look at this." Greg pointed to a watercolor painting of the Golden Gate Bridge in the kitchen. He'd spotted Sara's familiar scrawled initials in the corner. "I didn't know Sara painted."

"Explains all the art books." Warrick pointed to the stacks around the room and the large table book about Monet. He returned his attention to her book shelves noting the pictures in the room. A lacquer frame near the top of the shelves caught his attention. Reaching up he pulled it down to examine it closer. It wasn't a single framed photo, but a one of those ones that could be flipped open to see additional photos. The one on front made him smile; it was photographic evidence that Sara had ridden coasters with Griss before she'd come to Las Vegas.

Looking closely at the pair he noted that Sara hadn't changed much, her hair had been longer then hanging well past her shoulders and she looked younger, more carefree. The passage of time was more noticeable on Grissom; he'd been thinner, worn his beard shorter and his hair longer, but both had still been naturally dark golden brown with no hint of gray.

When Grissom had said 'every 9 years and 34 days he shared the experience' Warrick had suspected there was a memorable story behind the comment, but hadn't asked. Looking at the photograph he was certain of it. Putting it back on the shelf, he wondered for the first time in years what kind of relationship Grissom and Sara had before Vegas. Putting the frame back he ignored the temptation to satisfy his curiosity and see if he'd find the answers by flipping through the remaining pictures.

Smoothing invisible wrinkles out of her white capri pants, Sara took a deep breath and stepped forward. "Hey." She could have groaned after the word left her mouth, but as the faces around her looked up and smiled it was obviously enough.

"Hey Cookie. How you doing?" Jim Brass held her gaze as if weighing what he saw there against what she said.

"I'm okay. So have you guys eaten?"

"Nah we were waiting on the sleeping beauty in the bedroom." Nick teased gently, breathing a little easier when Sara joined in the laughter.

"Well I don't know about her, but I'm hungry and awake." Sara responded cheekily.

"How about breakfast at the Tangiers then? My treat." Catherine suggested, before someone mentioned going to the diner, which would definitely be a painful reminder of who was missing from their morning gathering and why.

"Sounds good." Jim seconded the motion, adding. "The boys and I will meet you there." He nudged Greg with an elbow, prompting Nick and Warrick with a head tilt towards the door.

The look exchanged between Brass and Catherine made it painfully obvious Sara was being left alone with Catherine on purpose to answer some questions. So she wasn't surprised when the other woman began saying earnestly. "Sara we know everything's not fine."

Catherine decided to cut to the chase when Sara didn't argue the point. "I got a memo from HR this morning."

Sara nodded as she sank into her favorite leather chair. When Dr. Baumgartner insisted on faxing the note she'd known she'd finally have no choice but to tell Gil. She didn't look at Catherine while pulling her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them. Both of them knew what the posture implied; Sara was protecting herself. But Sara wasn't up to pretending that everything was fine, when it wasn't. She did almost laugh when she realized she was in almost the same position she'd been in when Gil had gotten her to talk about her parents. Maybe if she got rid of the chair she wouldn't feel the need to explain so much.

"The memo just said you'd be taking some time off and we were to make any reasonable accommodation to your schedule or duties. Sara is there anything we should know, Doc Robbins seemed concerned last night. You said you weren't pregnant, but could you have been mistaken…" her voice trailed off.

"I'm positive I'm not Cath I swear."

"Than what's going on Sara."

"I uh got some news a few weeks ago, but didn't want to tell anyone until I knew for sure."

"Does Gil know about this? Is that why he left?"

Sara was glad it was Catherine, one of Gil's closest friends, someone he'd told about their relationship that should make this easier. "No. I didn't tell him and since he didn't say anything to me I have no idea why he left."

"Oh Sara why didn't you tell him? People in relationships are suppose to share."

Sara shrugged. "I was planning on telling him, but I kept putting it off and coming up with some reason or another not too. I thought I was doing it to protect him because I didn't want to worry him, but now mostly I think it was because I didn't know how to tell him."

"Tell him what Sara."

Sara shook her head. "Not now. The guys will be waiting for us. Can we talk about this later, okay?"

Years of interrogation had taught Catherine patience and how to read the person she was interviewing. With that skill she'd learned to get confessions by out waiting a suspect. As she really looked at her co-worker Catherine's blue eyes widened as she realized how tense Sara was; like a string too tightly strung she'd break under more pressure. Sara needed time and space, so Catherine backed off the questioning, but couldn't back off from someone she considered a friend in need. She moved closer so she could comfort her co-worker just as she would have her own daughter. The hug was gentle and open giving Sara the option to hug back or stop it altogether. "Ok, but Sara don't forget we're here for you whenever you need us."

Sara nodded and her chin bumped Catherine's shoulder. When the younger woman pulled back the relief was clearly written on her face. Catherine watched as Sara unfolded herself from the chair to grab her purse. Catherine was even more curious and concerned about her two favorite geeks, but for now all she could do was wait and watch until Sara was ready to talk.

AN: This is the final part of the update, but have no fear I'm already working on the next installment. I hope you will bear with me a little longer because unless my muse gets unexpectedly creative, in the next update we'll find out from Sara what really happened at the doctor's appointment and what news she's been keeping to herself. As always I owe special thanks to my wonderful beta **ddangerlove** who repeatedly kicked me into gear on your behalf, but most importantly has been a large part of the process in creating and shaping the story. Also to all the reviewers I thank you for continuing support and thank you for your questions and comments. So until next time, thank you for continuing on this journey with me.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: I still don't own them and this story still deals with mature themes. 3 cheers for my beta who continues to keep the story on track. Also a special thanks to everyone who has reviewed I'm so glad you're reading it, enjoying it and being frustrated by it. Those three emotions tell me you're as involved in the story as I am. So here is Chapter 6 and I hope you enjoy it.

"**It's not enough to learn the truth unless I also learn to live it. It's not enough to reach for love unless I care enough to give it." Anonymous**

* * *

As Catherine guided the Lexus through early morning traffic, Sara pulled out her cell phone and began flicking through the log of missed calls, listening to messages and reading her pages. Her breath hitched as she read Catherine's message. She couldn't believe her eyes. Re-reading the message Catherine had sent last night, Sara wanted to lash out, but settled for snapping her phone shut. "Did he tell you how long he'd been planning this?"

"Huh?" Catherine peeked at her passenger a little surprised by the sudden outburst, this was the first flash of anger she'd seen in the other woman in the last twenty-four hours.

"Grissom told you he'd be spending the next 6 months studying bugs in the Rainforest right?"

"Yes that's what he said."

"I'd like know how long he's been this unhappy and planning this." Closing her eyes Sara tried to regain control of emotions that were quickly spiraling out of control.

"What do you mean Sara?"

"When we first met he was getting ready for an expedition to the Rainforest. He spent months finalizing his visas and travel plans. I imagine the process has only have gotten tougher since 9/11."

Sara made a sound, but Catherine couldn't check to see if it was a choked sob or a swear word because of the traffic. As they slowed to a stop Catherine turned to see Sara looking out the window, trying to surreptitiously wipe tears away. The rest of the ride was silent as Catherine considered what the younger woman had said and what it implied. Pulling into the parking space she wondered if the pair could get anymore screwed up and if there was anyway to salvage their relationship.

* * *

Breakfast with the whole team was always fun, but as Catherine's gaze swept around the table she noticed the laughter was a little forced as everyone worked hard to ignore the hole that Grissom's absence left. Until that moment she hadn't realized how much they relied on his dry sense of humor, interesting anecdotes or bits of trivia. Hell, she even missed the quotes.

Watching as Sara snickered at a story Nick and Greg were telling, Catherine felt grateful that the boys appointed themselves to keep Sara's spirits up. Better yet, it seemed to be working. Her light laughter stopped abruptly as her cell phone rang. It played a couple of bars of "I Will Survive" before she was able to reach it and flip it open. "Hello?" She listened intently for a moment before addressing the table. "Excuse me. I need to take this. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Watching Sara's retreating form, Jim leaned closer to Catherine. "Did she tell you what was going on?"

"Not really. She says we're going to talk more later." Stirring her Bloody Mary she added. "She did say that Gil doesn't know about it either."

Sipping his drink Jim considered that. "That doesn't make me feel any better, you know. This is all a front. She's acting like everything's okay and telling us she's fine, but my gut's telling me it's not."

Catherine patted his hand gently. "I know Jim, for just a couple minutes she lowered her guard and ..." The sentence was left hanging as Sara returned to the table.

The younger woman hadn't been there long when her phone rang again. Catherine smiled as she identified the tune; it was the theme to Golden Girls. After opening the phone Sara read the screen, let out an angry huff, shut the phone and shoved it in her bag. Catherine glanced at Jim and noticed his slight nod of acknowledgement he'd also seen the flash of anger and wondered what it meant too.

They managed to keep control of their curiosity until Warrick, Nick and Greg left, leaving Sara alone at the table with them. Even for a pair used to asking questions, it was hard to know where to start.

"Cookie what's up?" Jim reached across to take her hand. Sara gave him a watery smile, but Catherine noticed it didn't reach her eyes.

"I need a ride."

"No problem." Catherine answered grabbing her purse. Exiting the restaurant behind Sara, she was glad the younger woman didn't see Brass mouthing 'call me' silently when he headed to his own car.

* * *

Following Sara's directions Catherine was surprised to see the B & B Medical Group sign as she pulled into the parking lot. "Adrienne Baumgartner's been my OB for years. She delivered Lindsay."

"I know. Adrienne mentioned it." Sara's voice was oddly flat.

Catherine barely had her seat belt unbuckled before the passenger door slammed closed. Quickly getting out of her vehicle, she had to jog to catch up to Sara who was already entering Dr. Baumgartner's office. Stepping into the familiar waiting room, Catherine scanned for an empty seat.

"You can come in." There was something in Sara's eyes that begged her to say yes. The look was familiar, but Catherine couldn't place it.

"Sure Sara, if that's what you want." Catherine was shocked and a little disturbed by the request. At Gil's prompting she'd managed to patch things up with the younger woman and things between them were better, but they were co-workers not friends.

"You might as well hear it now." Catherine didn't get a chance to answer since Sara's attention had already shifted to the friendly Hispanic Nurse who was approaching them.

"Sara! I'm glad we could work you in. Catherine what brings you in? " Carmella greeted them more like old friends than patients, but that was one of the benefits Catherine liked most about the exclusive medical group.

"She's with me."

"Okay Sara. Well come this way."

In the years she'd been coming for appointments Catherine had been in each of the exam rooms but never down this hallway. Carmella opened an unmarked door that appeared to lead to the physician's private office.

"Have a seat. The Doctor will be with you soon." Carmella closed the door behind her with a soft thud.

Catherine wasn't sure what she'd expected Adrienne's office to look like, but the dark woodwork wasn't it. The office had a masculine feel to it that didn't match the petite physician. Uncertain of what to say, Catherine perched in the chair, following the younger woman's lead and saying nothing at all. Sara didn't seem to notice; she was staring out the window and seemed miles away.

The wait was driving Catherine nuts and just when she was ready to demand some answers, the door finally opened. Dr. Adrienne, a petite ash blonde entered followed by a man with light brown hair and hazel eyes who towered over her. He took the leather chair behind the desk while Adrienne leaned against the edge.

"Sara it's nice to see you again."

The brunette turned when Adrienne said her name, but didn't move from the window. "Catherine you already know Adrienne. That's her husband and associate Dr. Larry Baumgartner."

"It's nice to meet you." His voice was pleasantly soft, but Catherine noticed his handshake was pleasantly firm.

"Why am I here? I thought the results wouldn't be back for a week."

Larry turned back to Sara. "They aren't, but we needed to finish our discussion and start looking at what your best options are. Did you get a chance to read the information I gave you?"

Sara's face was a mask and didn't betray her thoughts, but she did nod before turning back to look out the window.

"Did you get a chance to talk to your partner?"

"Not yet he's staying with his mom, I couldn't just pick up the phone and say 'Hey honey how was your day? By the way I had a biopsy and next week the doctor will tell me how long I have."

Adrienne crossed the room and touched Sara's shoulder. "Treatment's come a long way since your mother died."

Sara nodded and only when she sniffled did Catherine realize the younger woman was crying. Larry stood and stepped closer to hand her the Kleenex box. "It's way too early to think like that. Until the results come back we don't know anything for sure, so I'm optimistic about the prognosis and you should be too."

"I'll try." Sara wiped her nose.

Larry smiled when Sara nodded again. "Good. Now there are some choices you'll need to make because you'd need a different course of chemo before surgery if you're wanting to have kids." His pager beeped and looking at the number he stood. "I know it's a lot to take in, but if we know it will help the long run. Sorry I have to go. It was nice meeting you Ms. Willows. Sara we'll talk again soon."

With a wave his wife shooed him from his office. Glancing at the other CSI it was clear Catherine looked pale and shocked. It wasn't often that Catherine was left speechless, but as Sara watched the other woman try to form a sentence she wished it was for another reason. "What kind of doctor is Larry?"

"Oncologist." Adrienne answered. If that was the first punch the second came when Sara spoke and confirmed Catherine's worst fears.

"It looks like I have cervical cancer."

There didn't seem to be anything more to say, so they left Larry's office. Catherine remained silent as she drove back to Sara's place afraid that she'd start crying. It was a lot to take in, Sara had been facing this all alone and Gil who left apparently clueless about what was happening. Glancing over at her co-worker's profile she was suddenly angry at Sara for not telling Gil, angry at Gil for not being there so she had to deal with it all and angry at the injustice of it all.

"Did you want to come up?" Sara asked as Catherine parked in the guest space. "I've got a nice Merlot you could help me drink."

Still too stunned to speak Catherine accepted the invitation by turning off the ignition, undoing her seatbelt and absently following Sara up.

It wasn't until she was sitting on the couch sipping a second glass of red wine that Catherine began to relax enough to speak. "So you really didn't tell Gil?"

Sara was curled up on the leather chair across from her. Catherine's question was rhetorical, but Sara set her own wine glass aside and began playing with her necklace again. "No. I told myself to wait for the results of the second Pap. When I got those results, I wanted to wait until I could get a second opinion."

She shrugged. "After each test or appointment I'd come up with a reason to put it off until the next one because I didn't want to worry him, but mostly because I didn't know how to tell him."

Sara sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Adrienne suggested that I ask him to come to the colposcopy so he could hold my hand while she did the biopsies. Only he was gone when I woke up. I wasn't worried he does that sometimes when he needs space."

"When I called in sick from the doctor's office I thought for sure he'd ask and I'd have to tell him, but he never asked. I thought I was giving him space, but then you told me he left, so by then it was too late. Cath, I don't know if I can do this alone."

"You won't be alone. I promise."

"God, I'm so confused and don't know what to do or think anymore."

"Why did you tell Adrienne that Gil is in L.A.?"

"Cause he is. His mom sent me a text page during breakfast to tell me he was safe and with her. She also asked what happened and I still don't know what to tell her."

Sara yawned. "Sorry guess I'm still a little tired."

"Then you head to bed." Catherine gathered up her purse and paused before she exited. "We'll see you tonight right?"

"Sure Cath. I'll be there."

As soon as Catherine reached the end of the hallway she whipped out her cell phone. "Jim."

"Did she tell you?"

"Yes, and Jim it's worse than you feared."

The line was silent for a moment, but she was glad he didn't press for details because it wasn't her story to tell. "Okay."

"She also told me Grissom's in L.A. at his mother's house not in the Rainforest like he said."

"Right."

"Jim." She hissed into the receiver. "What are you going to do?"

"I'll call you when I get there and you can give me the address."

"Jim?" He didn't answer, but the dial tone in her ear said enough. Her car keys were in the lock as she looked up towards Sara's apartment. She'd made a promise and intended to keep it. Sara wouldn't be alone, but Catherine wasn't sure what would happen if Gil came home.


	7. Chapter 7

_Title: When the Evidence Lies_

_Rating: M for mature themes_

_Spoilers: Established GSR post Season 6 Finale _

_Author's Notes: This story will deal with mature themes and may not be suitable for all audiences. I don't own them, just taking them out for a spin. The story was beta'd, but I made some changes afterward so all mistakes are my own. Italics indicate either conversations in ASL or flashbacks. This chapter is dedicated to all the wonderful people who asked when the next chapter was coming and checking I hadn't given up on it. Thank you for everything._

**The supreme act of courage is that of forgiving ourselves.  
That which I was not but could have been.  
That which I would have done but did not do.  
Can I find the fortitude to remember in truth,  
to understand, to submit, to forgive  
and to be free to move on in time? **

**Kauffman**

* * *

Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes trying to banish the images that seemed burned onto his corneas. Blood pounded in his ears and his breathing was loud in the silence of the room. His sleep hadn't been restful; his subconscious had jumbled, distorted and merged memories of the past and present into frightening images.

The nightmare wasn't a new one exactly, just a disturbing mutation of the one that had haunted him since the Debbie Marlin case. A shudder shook his body as he remembered it, watching helplessly in open mouth horror as a huge scalpel sliced Sara open. He felt ill remembering seeing her lying in a pool of her own blood with huge gaping slashes to her throat and womb.

Placing two fingers against his carotid he began calculating his pulse and breathing through his nose trying to regain control of his stomach. The need to be sick was too strong; as Grissom stumbled down the hall to the bathroom he noticed the back of the house was quiet and dark. By the time he placed his hands on the cool countertop he'd gotten some control over his stomach. The images hadn't faded yet and he was haunted by the memory of them.

Turning on the faucet, he tried splashing the cool water over his face. If it had just been a regular dream he could have dismissed it, but it wasn't and the combination of memories and fears had too firm a grip on him. He wanted to call Sara, let her voice soothe his fears away, but knew he couldn't, he'd given up that right when he left. Instead he tried to recall other images of Sara, anything to replace the nightmarish one.

_It had been a long and unsatisfying shift; hours of processing and a re-enactment on the plane wasn't enough. There could be no justice in the man's death; the D.A. wasn't filing charges on the other passengers. Maybe that was why he'd joined the team as they tried to find closure._

_The weather had been more humid than normal and Sara wore her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. She sat facing the door giving him a good excuse to focus on her; she'd looked him in the eye. _

"_Well, we were just talking about murder and whether we would commit it. I couldn't." There'd been a quiet intensity to Sara's statement, at the time he'd written it off to her political or religious beliefs, but now he understood. Sara couldn't kill because she'd seen the devastating effects it had on her own life. _

_Only it wasn't Sara's answer that evening that was haunting him, but his own words. "If just one person had stopped and taken the time to look at the guy to listen to him, to figure out what was wrong with him it might not have happened. It took five people to kill him. It would have only taken one person to save his life."_

Wiping a hand over his face he leaned against the sink trying to pull himself together. Opening his eyes slowly he caught his reflection in the mirror over the sink. For the first time since his surgery he was disgusted by the coward looking back. He knew just how lucky he'd been that delaying the surgery hadn't caused significant hearing loss. And he'd sworn he wouldn't wait until it was nearly 'too late' again; that he'd learn from that experience.

It had still taken him years to make a move, but he'd felt fortunate that even after years of hurt, avoidance and misunderstanding he hadn't been too late. Sara gave him a chance at love and happily ever after. Not that any of it mattered now.

Exiting the bathroom he nearly ran into his mother; her expression serious as she handed him a cup of black coffee before signing brusquely. _"We're going to talk now."_

"Not now Mom."

"_Yes now. I let you hide from this for too long. I hoped you'd handle Lindy's death better than I handled your father's. When you brought Sara home I thought maybe you had finally dealt with it, but you haven't and now it's hurting you both."_

"Lindy doesn't have anything to do with Sara."

"_Doesn't she Gil?"_

"No."

"_Then why are you here?"_

"Getting ready for an expedition." Her eyebrow rose as she stared at him.

Her expression was sarcastic and her signs exaggerated_. "Funny you didn't mention it last week when we talked about the holidays."_

Spinning on her heel, he watched his mother stalk down the hall, forcing him to follow. Damn it he was fifty years old, but she made him feel like he was sixteen again lying about why he'd missed curfew. He'd already told her why he'd left Vegas and he didn't want to go through it all again.

"This is my life Mom."

"_Yes Gil and you've messed it up long enough out of some misguided guilt. What happened to Lindy was terrible, but not your fault."_ She lifted his face, watching a single tear run down his face. "_She'd want you to be happy Gil. It's time to forgive yourself, it wasn't your fault."_

Looking into her eyes Gil felt something break inside and no more words were needed as his mother wrapped her arms around him. She guided him to the couch, rubbing his back in soothing support.

"Mom I don't know what to do to make things right."

"_Talk a walk on the beach to clear your head. I'll get dinner started."_

* * *

The sun was low on the horizon as he began walking down the mostly deserted beach. In the distance further down the beach he could see the group of teens gathered around the small fire. Rather than turning back he walked closer and closer. On one side of the fire he saw a young man with curly blonde hair holding a lithe brunette close. The pair reminded him of nights he'd spent on the beach with Lindy, but the music they were listening to was leading his mind away from the past and back to Las Vegas. Stopping to watch the sunset on the Pacific he found himself silently wishing for a sign of what to do.

For years he'd run from Sara and nearly lost her more than once. His stomach clenched reflexively as he remembered three of the close calls; the traffic stop, her suspension and Adam Trent, but she'd come through each of those relatively unscathed. He hadn't been too late and somehow even after years of avoiding it, he had a relationship with Sara.

God, he'd made a mess of things in the last thirty-six hours; his life was in shambles all because of fears and feelings he'd bottled up for years. Gil sat down on the sand; it was only after he'd lost everything that he wished that he'd handle things differently. He was beginning to see he had made the wrong choice and he'd screwed up big. He wanted a second chance, but wasn't sure what if anything he could do to fix it.

The couple hours of nightmare plagued sleep hadn't been enough and the dreadful conversation with his mother afterwards left him feeling even older, more tired and battered. Sitting on the beach arms resting on bent knees Grissom watched the slow eternal dance as the waves advanced and retreated. He allowed the perpetual motion to soothe his battered soul as he accepted the truth of what his mother had said; it was time to forgive and finally release the past so he could salvage his future.

The sand to his right was kicked up as someone sat next to him; he'd been half-expecting his mother to join him.

"You want to talk about it?"

Grissom turned shocked to hear the familiar New Jersey accent and wasn't sure if he should be happy to see his friend or not. "Jim what are you doing here?"

"Your mom said you'd be out here." Gil's eyes narrowed, shrugging the Detective ignored him and focused on the horizon. "I could ask you the same thing."

Grissom raised an eyebrow and with a tilt of his head he assessed Jim's mood. The cop thought he already knew the answer, leaving Gil the choice to either talk to his friend or be raked over the hot coals. From years of observing Jim's interrogations he was well aware of what Jim was capable of when he wanted an admission and confession. "According to my mother I'm running away."

"Smart woman."

"Why are you here Jim?"

"I'm trying to keep you from screwing up a good thing Pal."

Gil looked down at his hands the pain of the past and present were so close to the surface. "I think it's too late for that."

"Maybe, but you won't know for sure unless you come home."

* * *

AN: The flashback is from Unfriendly Skies. Future chapters will focus on what's happening in Las Vegas with Catherine and Sara. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: ** CSI and Ben & Jerry's don't belong to me, but I'm grateful to their creators for coming up with the idea in the first place. I'm only borrowing the items to explore a fictional idea and make no profit from this, but I do enjoy the reviews, input and concrit I get from the readers.

* * *

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Sara asked as the front door swung open.

"Couldn't and knew you wouldn't be so I thought we could talk. Can I come in?" Catherine smiled as she lifted the plastic grocery bag. "I brought ice cream."

"What kind?"

Pulling out a pint she waggled it enticingly. "Its Ben and Jerry's; I got Neapolitan Dynamite for you and Phish Food for me."

It was hard not to smile at her co-worker's antics; stepping back Sara allowed the door to open wider. "Have a seat. I'll grab some spoons."

Sitting down on the couch Catherine looked at the photographs covering the coffee table. The first one that caught her eye was a black and white image of a familiar looking platinum blonde; she looked like a cross between the actress Marlene Dietrich and the showgirl Lois O'Neill. Picking it up for a closer look she noticed the woman had Sara's smile and bone structure. Setting the picture back down she spotted the woman in another picture this time with her arms around a tall young man and a teenaged girl who looked like Sara. Flipping the photo over to read the caption, "Laura, Sara and Dillon. Point Reyes, 1988."

Sara was back before her guest had put the photo down. "Mom died a couple weeks after that was taken."

Catherine nodded as she absorbed the information. "You look like her." A small smile was Sara's only reply. "What about the rest of your family? Shouldn't they be here?"

Releasing a quiet sigh Sara picked up an older photograph. It was from a happier time; Sara stared at the image of a happy family for a minute before answering. "They're all gone."

Catherine watched Sara's face, she was speaking with the same detached quality other people used when talking about the weather.

"I'm sorry." The words were soft and Catherine didn't think they were nearly enough, but Sara shrugged as she began gathering the pictures up and dropping them into the box. Catherine found pieces falling into place; the real reason Sara worked every holiday and didn't talk about her family was because she no longer had one.

"How'd you know this was my favorite flavor?" Sara asked trying to change the subject.

"I remember you telling Greg." She admitted handing over the container that was equal parts Cherry Garcia and Chocolate Fudge Brownie.

"But that was months ago." She was stunned that Catherine had actually remembered. It was the other woman's turn to shrug the comment off.

"That's a nice photo, of you and Gil." Catherine pointed at the box and the photo on top.

"His mom took that when we visited."

"How'd that go?"

Sara smiled. "She's great."

"You both look really happy." Looking at the photo that had captured a couple very much in love, Catherine wondered what had happened to them since then.

"I thought we were." She pulled out the photo, tracing her fingers over it. It was a candid shot, they were in a comfortable embrace, he stood behind palms resting over Sara's abdomen while her hands lay on his forearms. "I'm scared Cath, if I was wrong about that..." Her voice trailed off into silence as a tear ran down her cheek.

"He wouldn't have left if he'd known. I just don't understand why didn't you tell him?" Catherine asked as she grabbed a nearby kleenex box.

"It's silly." Sara admitted dabbing her eyes with the tissue. "But after years of wanting we were finally together and I could see our future you know; a house with a couple of kids. After that first doctor's visit I couldn't see the future anymore and was afraid I'd lose him too."

"I don't think that's silly." Eating a spoonful of ice cream gave Catherine time to think and decide how best to proceed. She'd watched these two hurt each other for years as they danced around each other, but knew from her experiences with Eddie that they had a very real chance at happiness. "It was stupid; you never even gave him a chance. Since you've been here has he ever failed to support any of us? Do you really think he would have done any less for you?"

Sara shrugged her shoulders as the tears pooled in her eyes again. "I don't know."

"I know he would. He told Ecklie he wouldn't fire you because he needs you."

She remembered how he'd supported the team through all sorts of trials. He'd given Warrick another chance, mentored Greg after he failed his proficiency, and his refusal to give up on Nick when he'd been kidnapped. A tear escaped, followed by a hiccupped sob. "I should have trusted him, Cath and now it's too late."

The ice cream was forgotten as Sara tried to wipe away the tears, but they just fell faster and faster. Catherine wrapped her arms around the younger woman, surprised when Sara relaxed and allowed herself to be comforted.

It wasn't until Sara stopped crying and pulled away that Catherine spoke again. "I've seen how Gil looks at you; he'll forgive the woman he loves."

"What should I do?"

Catherine smoothed a stray strand behind Sara's ear, her maternal instinct in high gear. "Right now its time to focus on you. "


End file.
